


Bro: Be the Cockblock - Why So Serious? Remix

by Legendaerie



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Family, Gen, Implied Sadstuck, No Homo, Okay Maybe A Little Homo, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-24
Updated: 2012-02-24
Packaged: 2017-10-31 16:53:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/346343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Legendaerie/pseuds/Legendaerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So he coaxed a battle out off his little brother, treasuring the knowledge that Dave was still just young enough to value vertical sports over horizontal ones, and he flash-stepped around him. Their feet made the sickest of rhythms on the still-hot concrete, a song composed of the clash of steel and punctuated by the occasional caw of a crow as Bro Strider tried to stop time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bro: Be the Cockblock - Why So Serious? Remix

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sandywolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandywolf/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Bro: Be the Cockblock](https://archiveofourown.org/works/228947) by [Sandywolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandywolf/pseuds/Sandywolf). 



> This is a kind of remix/reply/serious interpretation of Sandywolf's fic Bro: Be the Cockblock, because I suddenly decided this is my favorite non shipping relationship ever and also I legit cannot write anything Homestuck that's not at least 20% Sadstuck.
> 
> So here we go.
> 
> ~~also what are tenses I don't even know anymore fuck this is what happens when I don't have a beta~~
> 
> \----

He'd laid the invitation out of the table, casually, once or twice - with all the appeal of a juicy rump roast, slick and steaming and just begging to sink your teeth into - and he hadn't been surprised when it had taken the little Strider a couple years to take him up on that.

It didn't mean he hadn't been disappointed.

The first girl his brother brought home was a decent cutie, thick black hair - he seemed to be drawn to that for some reason - with chocolate eyes and cherry lips. He could almost smell the superficial radiating off of her.

He knew that he couldn't beat these types off his brother in metaphor (or reality) forever. But for now, he'd simply have to take matters into his own hands.

Bro Strider was slicker than soap dipped in oil, and he slithered in between Dave and his 'guest' like a katana between the ribs, right to the heart of the moment and destroying the building sexual tension. Awkward gushed from the social injury, the blood draining from flushed cheeks in the most fitting of ways, and Bro kept his poker face as he flipped on the TV.

Dave's eyebrow emerged from behind his sunglasses, a slender blond curve of _'you have got to be shitting me'_ as the girl gabbled an excuse and absconded.

Bro said nothing as Lil' Cal fetched him a bag of Doritos.

_You'll thank me later._

\----

The second of these instances were initiated by the girl standing outside their apartment, the shift in her shoulders that revealed the black strap of her bra not making things any better. It was then that the guardian perching on the rooftop in such a way to loom without casting a sliver of a shadow on the pavement below realized that he couldn't do this forever. Dave was growing up, his thin frame slowly filling out with the lean muscle that was inevitable with their constant strife, and the Strider charm completing the transformation with the same inexorability.

So he coaxed a battle out off his little brother, treasuring the knowledge that Dave was still just young enough to value vertical sports over horizontal ones, and he flash-stepped around him. Their feet made the sickest of rhythms on the still-hot concrete, a song composed of the clash of steel and punctuated by the occasional caw of a crow as Bro Strider tried to stop time.

As Dave panted, red eyes bright with determination that burned behind his cool kid facade and the shades that were still gripping his nose like he'd been born with them, Bro hid a smile of his own.

One day, he'd understand.

Sparks danced in the fading light as Bro's backhanded block snaps Dave's shitty katana in pieces - a metallic _sproing_ , a final beat to their music. The guardian flash-stepped again, then gave Dave a stinging blow with the flat of his sword diagonal across the shoulders, and vanished into the apartment.

One day, when Dave had to deal with wounds that went deeper than swords could, he'd thank him.

\----

It isn't until later, much later, that Dave seems to get it. A boy enters, comprised almost entirely of buck teeth, messy black hair, awkward and mischief and square glasses (Bro didn't even think they made square glasses anymore) and exchanges the sacred bunp with his little bro.

For a moment the older Strider is almost jealous.

When the strange boy sits on the couch, Bro slides between them in a not even slightly subtle display of protective affection. His official position on LGBT was 'Let Girls and Guys Be Themselves', but that did not mean he had to pull punches on this bundle of dork who was giving him a very uncool look. Despite this, the Dork was chill enough to laugh as he asks, "Hey man, you comfortable there?"

Bro mentally analyzes his words - yep, genuine. +1 Bro Point. 

The Dork was still in the negative though.

"Maybe," he drawls, digging one shoulder blade into Dave's stomach as he presses both of them into the couch, using the full weight of his 6 foot something frame to remind both parties that he was still between them.

"I guess I should introduce this heathen to you." A blurred gesture from the corner of his eye in the sweet spot between shades and cheekbone where he can see everything translates to Dave gesturing to the Dork. "This is my Bro.”

"Nice to meet you, and hey, nice, sunglasses." The Dork grins, and Bro amended his title to the Derp as said Derp traces the outlines of his shades on his own face. "You look just like Dave, which I guess makes sense since you're brothers or something. But hey! If you're done with that game, maybe we could watch a movie soon?"  
Alarms were starting to go off in Bro's head as Derp continued talked, his innocent face bright with naive enthusiasm, and he tried to console himself with the knowledge that at least Dave was a topper, "I brought Con Air, which is this freakin' sweet film about -"

Dave cuts him off, adjusting himself as though moving would make the crush of Bro's bones against his solar plexus - right on the worst of his recent cuts from strifing - any less painful. "Bro, this is John, my heterosexual best friend who I'm definitely not dating."

Bro pauses his game, ignoring the warning that he hasn't saved recently. Dave is serious. He gives his little brother his full attention - orange meeting red between two layers of mirrored tinted glass in a rare moment of clarity.

"Is that so."

Dave's motions are too fluid to be feigned, even with flawless Strider grace, as he indicates his proposed options with subtle sweeps on his fingertips above Bro's shoulder. "Yeah. I brought him over to play some sick beats and stoke some fires, maybe watch a few movies, maybe even troll a few people, if you know what I mean."

The moment fades slowly, and Bro can't make out scarlet in shadow anymore. Thoughts skip and scratch in his mind as he tries to mix together rhyme and reason.

"Well, in that case."

Bro's movements are lazy but deliberate - rotating to sit up, stretching until his plain shirt rides up in the back, then long fingers flick out and kill the power on his game system. He doesn't have to look to see the zig zag of attention - Derp watches Dave, Dave watches Bro, and it reaffirms his presence as still the authority, the figure of respect. He scritches the back of his neck idly, as though it'll get his thoughts to flow smoothly.

"Guess I'm gonna catch some sleep then," he says, almost emptily. "Maybe see how Lil' Cal is doing."

Dave's still attentive, like he's been throughout the conversation, as his body makes a contradiction of his guarded curiosity. 

"Yeah man, tell him I said hi."

It isn't until much later that Bro can breathe a sigh of relief, even as it comes out with a cough at the end. He takes a swig of lukewarm apple juice and glances at a picture of them together as he lies in bed.

He's a controller of puppets, not time. One day, Dave will stop listening to him, and shit would be wreaked. Bro knows only too well what happens when hopes and hearts are shattered, and he'd keep doing his best to delay that day.

One day, Dave would fall in love and Bro wouldn't be there to catch him.

But at least it wasn't today.


End file.
